#slow jewelry movement

[ak4e7a]

making him a daddy —- enha hyung line

if you haven’t read my mother’s day special, Men I Love Fucking, click here first!

cw: all of it. all. humiliation, lactation, filming, degradation, dom!hyung line. daddy kink galore. if you don’t have one rn, you’re about to get one!

a/n: belated hbd nessa :3 jay is for u and u only <3 sorry to my freakhoon believers for edging you with this for like two weeks, it will happen again

minors dni, 18+ only.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿˚₊

heeseung literally cannot stop fucking you ever since you got pregnant—or maybe a little before that, but he’ll never admit it. what started as a one night stand when your best friend, his sister, was asleep and you “accidentally” walked in on him fucking his fist in his room quickly became a friends-with-benefits situation… or so you thought.

“fuck, baby,” he groans in your ear, his voice low so as to not make too much noise. after all, your best friend is, once again, asleep in the next room. he slides his cock in between your folds. “you keep getting so wet for me, how can i stay away from you?”

except… he kind of has to stay away from you, when you tell him you’re actually dating someone now. someone who isn’t him. heeseung doesn’t take the news too well, and honestly, he’s valid for that. he’s pissed off, to say the least.

“carrying my fucking baby and you’ve got the nerve to be with someone else?” he growls, hips smacking into your ass roughly. you clutch harder onto the pillow you’re holding, tears prickling in your eyes as he pounds into your cunt, one hand over your mouth.

“seungie—” you gasp when he moves his hand down to pinch at your swollen tits.

he tsks in your ear. “uh-uh, little bunny. that’s not what you should be calling me right now.”

“hee—” your moans are getting harder to contain as you get dangerously close to your climax. heeseung can tell, too, and he slows down his movements, even going so far as to cup your little baby bump.

“nope. try again,” he demands, the lazy drag of his cock along your gummy walls making your eyes cross in pleasure. he gives you one rough thrust when you hesitate, skimming his hand down to press right above your mound so he can feel his cock from the outside, causing you to cry out,

“daddy!”

“there we go, mama. that wasn’t so hard, was it? now tell me again. who’s your fucking daddy?”

———

jay put a ring on your finger literally hours after you showed him your positive pregnancy test. he damn near bought the entire jewelry store for you—that’s how happy he was, knowing he’d finally succeeded in successfully knocking you up. and now, in your second trimester, you’re just as happy. sprawled out on the silk sheets of your shared bed, your fiancé shows you exactly just how much he adores you.

“jay,” you whimper, staring into his eyes. his hands hold himself up above you, caging your head in. you can feel the cold metal of his rolex watch graze against your cheek as he nudges himself inside you. “i love you…”

“i love you more,” he coos back. he lets out a hiss as he bottoms out, balls pressed snugly against your ass. “my princess.”

you wiggle underneath him, desperately trying to move your hips for more friction. “need you, please, need more!”

“you have all of me, angel,” he chuckles, breath warm on your skin, the scent of his cologne flooding your sense of smell. “what more could i give you?”

you both know he’s teasing you—and torturing himself while he does it. jay has to give into you eventually. he always does, no matter what it is. his soft brown eyes flicker downwards, transfixed on the way your tits bounce as he starts to fuck you open, his thrusts somehow both gentle and rough.

you don’t even have time to ask him what he’s doing or why he’s staring so intently when he ducks his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth and starts sucking… but it feels different this time, the sensation forcing your orgasm closer and closer. then it clicks for you. jay’s been so entranced by the way your tits have started to grow, he’d been hanging off of your every word that morning when you were complaining that you’d started lactating and needed to buy new bras.

excited at this revelation, you tease him back. “tastes good, daddy?”

you know calling him that specific name makes him rock hard. you can literally feel him somehow grow bigger inside you, forcing your walls to stretch open some more for his cock. he throbs inside you, hips stilling when he pushes his cock all the way down to the hilt, tip kissing your cervix.

“want more, daddy?” you purr, pushing your chest closer to his face. he doesn’t give you an answer, but as you feel your milk leak into his hot mouth, you take that as an enthusiastic yes.

“thank you for making me a daddy, angel girl,” he mumbles before latching on again and sucking—hard.

———

jake is absolutely nasty. besotted with his best friend’s mother? but you’re hot as fuck, can anyone blame him? can anyone truly blame him when you’ve got him on his knees, eating your pussy from behind while he strokes his cock?

“feels good, mommy?” he moans, his voice partially muffled between your legs. his nose nudges between your folds, and you gasp at how fucking messy he’s being. you don’t think this boy could get any more depraved until you feel his veiny hands grab at your asscheeks and shake them into his face.

“good, so good!” you sob into your pillow, pushing your pussy towards his tongue.

he pulls away from you, ignoring your cries of protest, grabbing his phone from where it's recording you two on the nightstand.

“need to get you on camera up close, mommy. wanna film it so i can watch it later when i need you.”

“jakey—” you begin, but you’re cut off when he begins to push the tip of his cock past your soaked folds.

“no, shh, mommy. ‘m so fuckin’ close, i gotta breed you now, wanna cum in you so bad. will you let me?”

you nod, turning your head just enough to make eye contact with your lover as he pushes himself inside you. he’s got the most fucked out, pussy drunk expression in his face, pretty eyes half lidded, pretty mouth formed in a euphoric O-shape.

“c’mon, mommy, rub your clit for me,” he whines, pumping his cock into you. "’n if i'm calling you mommy, might as well make me a daddy while we're at it, yeah? does mommy want my cum?”

“yes, please, please cum in me!” you squeal, overstimulated as you rub your clit while jake pounds against your g-spot.

“ask me properly, mommy,” he suddenly growls, fucking you harder and harder so he can cum.

“daddy, please! want your cum!”

he gives it to you, he really does. he cums deep into your cunt and pulls out, making sure that the camera catches it on film as his cum leaks out of you and down your thighs.

“hm. looks like we should try one more time just to be sure, right, mommy?”

———

sunghoon has been in a mood recently. a very particular mood; one that has you pinned on the bed in a mating press every night when he comes home from work. you’ve noticed lately that your younger boyfriend— “i’m only three years younger than you,” he likes to argue— has taken a liking to wearing neckties to work, knotting them over the collar of his pristine white button down shirts that fit so nicely over his muscular arms.

now his black prada tie is knotted around your wrists, stacked behind your back while you’re draped over his lap, squirming uncontrollably, skirt flipped up to expose you to him.

"oh, these are cute, baby. you wear them for me? you look so pretty in pink."

you hum in response and he spanks you right where you need him most.

"that's not an answer, brat. use your words."

"y-yes sunghoon! 's for you!!"

he's so condescending when he replies, "what a smart little girl you are. manipulative little brat. wearing my favorite color, acting all whiny and desperate for me since you begged me to come home early from work not one hour ago..."

"you're the one who came running," you snap back, annoyed at his teasing. wrong move. he effortlessly lifts you up off his lap and onto the bed. he pushes your panties to the side and slides his cock inside you all the way, with no time for you to ease into the stretch.

"you fucking brat. am i gonna have to punish you all night to put you in your place? want me to fuck you and dump my load in your pathetic little cunt and leave you to finish yourself off? because i will, little girl. don't forget who's the only one who can make you cum this hard."

you try to fuck yourself on his cock and he's not having it at all. "brat, what did i just say? disobedient fucking slut, all you want is my cock. apologize to me and beg, and maybe i'll make you squirt all over me and this fucking bed."

"s-sorry hoonie..."

his hand comes crashing down on your ass.

"pathetic. try again, pretty."

"i'm sorry daddy, i'm sorry for being a brat!"

"fucking hell, princess, you beg so sweetly. you want me to fuck you full of my cum? want me to knock you up and parade you around in front of everyone, let them know who you belong to?"

you pout at him, batting your eyelashes the way you know he can't resist. "please, daddy?”

“that’s a good girl. you better remember who’s in charge the next time you wanna brat out on me, hm?”

[jobean12-blog]

Everything You Want

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,344

Summary: There's no one you trust more than your husband and he always knows exactly what you want.

Author's Note: Just because I love the idea of being in such a trusting and loving relationship that you can have this kind of fun (whether it's a fantasy or not). Also, we know I love a soft mob!Bucky who will do anything for his girl- even 'give up' control (or let her think he is hehe) Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Dvider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and flirty and there's tension and softness, ora-l (m rec), some light dirty talk.

“Where do you think you’re goin’ dressed like that doll face?”

You startle with a yelp and drop your earring, scowling at your husband.

“Buck!”

The muscles in his throat work as he grazes you with a head-to-toe perusal and saunters closer. His splayed hand smooths down your back as he bends to pick up the fallen jewelry. You reach out for it but he pulls it away and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your head so he can put the earring on himself.

“You didn’t answer my question doll.”

“Out with the girls. You know that.”

He spins you around and tugs you against his chest, humming low in his throat when you slide your hands down his chest.

“You need to change.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you practically shout, “I absolutely DO NOT!”

His lips twitch with a smile and he backs you toward the dresser, pinning you in place with his body.

“I can’t come with you tonight. I have business to address.”

“I know. And you’re not invited anyway. It’s girls night.”

You try to cross your arms over your chest but he presses closer and prevents any further movement.

His stare is dangerous but you lift your chin and stare right back.

“You just love to drive me crazy; don’t you doll?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mm,” he purrs, dipping his head, his lips hovering just above yours as his fingers trail down the side of your throat.

Your eyes close and your fingers tighten in the expensive fabric of his shirt. His stubbled jaw scrapes along your neck and his hands continue their slow worship of all your exposed skin. His kiss is possessive and his lips linger until you’re hot and bothered and wanting nothing more than him.

“Behave,” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

With one last soft kiss he winks at you and steps away, turning to walk toward his office and call Steve.

You let out an exhale and smooth your hands over your clothing, setting your shoulders back before you head for the door.

“I thought it was girls night,” Steve chuckles from behind Bucky as they approach the door.

“It is,” Bucky answers.

The bouncer sees Bucky and immediately moves over to hold the door open, nodding as he and Steve bypass the line of people waiting to get in.

“She’s gonna be mad Boss.”

“No she’s not. This is exactly what she wants.”

Loud music and laughter greet them when they walk inside.

Bucky glances back at Steve with a satisfied smirk before motioning to the bar. With a simple tilt of recognition Steve takes his post, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

It’s still early, the bar isn’t yet filled to capacity but it’s busy. Several people are already dancing and Bucky does a double take.

There you are, a drink in hand, dancing with your friends in the middle of the floor. As he moves closer, he notices that your skin is slightly dewy from exertion and your dress is clinging to your curves as you move your hips to the rhythm of the music.

He would stand there and keep watching but he isn’t the only one enjoying the show. When one random guy elbows his buddy and gestures in your direction, Bucky’s feet are moving purposefully toward you before the other men even get up from their table.

As he gets closer, you look up as if sensing him and when your eyes scan his face, your lips part slightly before sweeping over the rest of him. With a lick of your lips you watch and wait.

He crooks his finger at you and you sway toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck and stretching yourself flush against his body.

Letting your attention fall to his mouth, your fingers trace over his shoulders and down his chest, toying with the open collar of his shirt.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you tell him then kiss the exposed skin near his neck.

Your lips trace a path higher and graze along his scruffy jaw, ending where your mouths meet. He kisses you hungrily and when you moan in your throat he reluctantly pulls away.

“Well, I happen to own the place,” he says with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah…” you trail off. “You own just about…”

He cuts off the rest of your thought with a kiss and you melt closer, pressing all your softness against him.

Your fingers slip between the strained buttons of his shirt and when you feel his muscles tense under your touch you smile against his lips.

“I was behaving…just so you know.”

“Oh I do know doll. But I also know you’ve been waiting for me to show up and I never like to disappoint my wife.”

Your eyes sparkle and using his shoulders for leverage, you lean up and whisper in his ear.

“Bucky, take me somewhere private. Where you can rip these panties off and fuck me hard.”

“Fuck,” he hisses as his hands drop to your hips and he hauls you into him, letting you feel the affect of your words. “Are you out of your damn mind saying something like that to me in public baby doll? It’s all I can do right now not to bend you over the bar and fuck you senseless with everyone watching. Maybe it would teach you to be more careful with that mouth.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you look up at him through your lashes.

“My mouth knows exactly how…”

Before your words are fully spoken, he starts dragging you across the dance floor, heading in the direction of the office at the back end of the bar.

He pulls you through a door into a dark, empty hallway, the only light illuminating the corridor emanating from the exit sign at the other end. The music is muffled and all you can focus on is your mingled heavy breathing.

“On your knees doll.”

Every cell in your body hums with needy anticipation and you fall to your knees without a single hesitation.

Your hands meet in a tangle as you both struggle to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his dress pants. You devour the sight of him so hard and ready.

He braces one hand above you on the wall, the other gripping the back of your head and urging you forward. At the last second, just before your tongue makes contact, he stops you.

“Uh huh doll face. First, you finish what you were going to say. Your mouth knows exactly how…what?

You look up from your position at his feet and grip the base of his cock.

“My mouth knows exactly how you like it.”

You flick your tongue out and lick the tip, making him groan. He guides himself between you lips and you moan at the smooth feel of him on your tongue. Your hand strokes in time with your mouth, faster and faster until you feel him start to tremble.

“Baby doll, stop. Now. Fuck, please stop.”

You exult in his loss of composure and ignore his request, unable to get enough of having your powerful and possessive husband falling apart for you. You swirl your tongue around the tip, then suck it hard, distantly hearing his metal fist connecting with the wall.

He drags you to your feet and pushes you back against the hard wall.

“Spread those thighs wide for me,” he growls.

His hand reaches beneath your dress and rips at the thin material of your panties and all the while you focus on his flushed face and the desperation you see there.

“Wait.”

You say the word in a whispered rush and he stills.

“Doll,” he warns through clenched teeth.

“Taste me first.”

He groans out a curse and kneels at your feet, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder before grabbing your hips and eagerly burying his face between your legs.

@randomfandompenguin @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @hiddles-rose @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

[nysrage]

4 your eyes only, Onyankapon.

you loved how your rapper boyfriend always draped you down in jewels, making sure you had all the latest pieces to elevate your fashions. so you decided to surprise him with a special jewel of his own.

everytime you and onyankapon got freaky he wanted you to keep every piece of jewelry on. especially since he loved having you laid flat on your tummy as he fucked you, giving himself a glistening view from above. your head laid flat atop of the scattered bedding, fresh set gripping at the silk sheets as your ass bounced back against his pelvis from the fluffy mattress. “theree you go, taking this dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” pushing those straightened bundles from out the way, giving him a nice view of your pretty fucked out face. a homemade beat created as your ass clapped back on his dick, soaking it with a glistening slick. “feel s’good pa”

a slight glimmer peaking through those ricocheting cheeks caught his eyes. slowing down his strokes and giving your ass a nice spread, revealing a custom pink butt plug in the shape of a ‘O’. “f-fuck mama when’d you get this?” groaning as he halts his movements and toying with the jewel, gasping when he twirled the bulb around in your clenching hole. pussy clamping down on him hard. The view of his initial setting off some type of primal fire in him. Ony roughly placed your hands against the soft chubby flesh, making them spread you open to display that beautiful jewel for him. “keep em’ open for me.”

looking back at him with your lip tucked between your lips as you waited for him to claim your body as his, whispering out in a faux innocence. “like my new bling?” giving your ass a firm slap just before lining that thick dark dick up with your clamping hole. “yess.” tip teasing against your leaking pussy, throbbing to reach to deepest depths of you. “tell me how much you like it papa” you both moaning out as he’s sinking back into that tight pussy with ease, moaning at the pressure of him filling you up. “love that shit s’ much mama” pounding into your hard and deep, leaving your digging into the skin of your own ass for some type of grounding. “ouuu, onyyy—”

grabbing the side of your face to make look at him— giving direct eye contact mid stroke, as the brutal pounding echoed through the room. “you gonna keep filling up that tight ass fa daddy, huh?” strong hips pounding down against your ass, pushing that bejeweled plug deeper into you. “g’nna keep my initial in to stretch that ass?!” screaming out as he angled his tip to hit right where that silver bulb rested. “yessss, onya— shittt.” eyes rolling back as you gushed out a splattering mess, wetting up the sheets and your man in one go. Ony fucking you through the loud squelching mess until filling you full, groaning as he made sure give you every single drop of his seed.

[lcvemiyuki]

"close to his heart" | hinata, hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: you attend an intense and crucial match for the jackals and discover a certain wing spiker wears his promise ring in secret to give him good luck during a game

warnings: fluff, established relationship, timeskip!msby hinata

character(s): hinata

word count: 590

a/n: i saw a fanart of this exact scenario and just HAD to write something about it because ughhhhhhh. like that was me fr in the stands. (if i find out who the artist is i will add it in the future!). also, i know jewelry is prohibited to wear during matches, i don’t know what the protocols are, but for the sake of this writing lets just pretend if anything🤗

art creds: @/sunfluff on ig @/ah_e0k on twt (inspired this scenario)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

'wham!'

the ball ricocheted off the ground, sending the crowd into a frenzied uproar.

the match was a nail-biter, with each team clinging to the game with pure willpower. the players' shoes squeaked in protest against the polished floor; their faces glistened with the sheen of sweat, a tangible testament to their craving for victory.

in the midst of all this, you knew that every match held a special significance for the orange-haired decoy—every single point, every last serve, it all mattered.

as the jackals were nearing the final set of the match, it was apparent that hinata was exhausted, his energy nearly depleted. but adrenaline forced his legs to move just a bit longer, his thigh muscles searing and flexing with every strenuous movement.

all of his senses were heightened.

he became intensely aware of a certain necklace he had tucked under his jersey as well.

the realization of its presence served to slow his fast-beating heart just enough to keep him grounded.

the closest, tangible thing to him wasn't his teammates or the high-speed ball whirling toward him. 

it was you.

wearing his promise to you on a silver chain around his neck was a risky move, but it was the only thing that seemed to calm his nerves.

the game demanded his attention once again as the blond setter lofted a perfect set in his direction. with a sudden burst of renewed energy, hinata leaped for the quick attack, his hand connecting with the ball with infallible precision and force.

the resulting smack echoed ominously through the gym. before anyone could fully comprehend what had happened, the match was over.

the crowd was only a few seconds late in reacting, their cheers filling the stadium as the realization dawned. the shrill sound of the whistle signaled the winning point, initiating a wave of exhilaration that swept through the stands.

"yeah!" hinata yelled, triumphantly balling a fist into the air. his teammates, brimming with uncontained excitement, rushed over with their hands delivering congratulatory slaps on his back.

as the match drew to a close, you finally allowed yourself to release the breath you'd been holding. next to you, the younger, orange-haired girl—her face glowing with pride for her older brother—jumped up and down with joy.

both of you were clad in jackal merch, his number visible on your jerseys. despite blending in with the sea of fans, a pair of keen eyes found you anyway.

after sharing a celebratory hug with natsu, you turned your gaze back down the stadium. you were searching for the mvp of the night—only to find that he was already staring up at you.

at that moment, the deafening noise levels of the stadium seemed to fade into insignificance. it felt as if only you two were there— as if, he was telepathically communicating with you. a loving smile spread across his face as his hand reached for his neck. slowly, he removed the skin-toned bandages to reveal the shiny, silver-chained necklace and his promise ring to you dangling on it.

you gasped, the sound getting caught in your throat and leaving you speechless.

"he was wearing his ring this whole time?" your fingers immediately touch your own, fiddling with it.

as if he could read your mind, hinata’s smile grew larger. he brought the silver ring to his lips in a tender gesture—a small peck that resonated in your heart.

this ring was his good luck charm, the one thing he wanted close to his heart. and for that, he was willing to break a few rules.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

want more?

⤷ masterlist.

[sourpeachsayshi]

You had more thoughts about big bro Choso??

I'm listening 🎤

⊱ ─── [ marathon ] ─── ⊰

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: public (is it pseudo incest if yuji is asleep? and choso is his brother?); heavy petting; kissing; nipple play; dry humping; reader is yuji's best friend; choso is yuji's brother; non curse au; hooking up in secret; size kink

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: nyx, my beloved. I initially was going to write something short, but decided to expand on this and I'm wrapping it up as a little gift to you <3

midnight rolls around, the living room glowing in blue light. yuji is on the floor, curled into a ball with his eyes shut as he snores quietly. the movie is still playing, you know it's the last one, but you've got another hour and thirty minute left and it only just started. usually you wouldn't be so conscious of the time, eventually falling asleep, but halfway through choso decided to join you both and you've been on the edge of your seat ever since.

he's so big. his strong, muscular legs taking up quite a bit of space on the humble sized sofa. you find yourself fidgeting with your outfit. tugging at the hem of your short dress as you adjust the straps of the top.

your cheeks are already warm, even though choso is innocently just watching the movie.

"you cold?" he asks, keeping his eye on the screen but picking up on your restless movements.

"yes," you lie. it's actually quite nice - neither too hot or cold, but you figure you would feel less exposed under a blanket.

choso gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. he picks up two blankets, one which he spreads over yuji's body and the other which unfolds over your lap.

"thank you," you softly answer, snuggling underneath to conceal yourself.

"no problem," he nonchalantly replies, but your body shivers when you notice that he sits even closer to you.

you try to watch the movie, tell yourself not to think about what happened a couple of weeks ago in choso's room. you nip at your bottom lip, your belly fluttering with guilt. you swore it would be the last time. you can't keep lying to your best friend like this. hate that you've been showing up at his place more often under false pretenses.

"comfy?" a deep voice whispers against your ear, and you squeeze your thighs underneath the blanket as you swallow the lump in your throat.

a breathy response comes out of you. "yeah, I am"

"good," he answers back, his fingers moving to unravel the blanket even more. "make some room for me then, I'm starting to feel the cold too.."

another lie. but a lie that makes your heart quiver with anticipation.

silence lingers, the two of you keeping your eyes on the television screen. you glance in his direction, wetting your lips at his handsome features. his hair is out, flowing freely to his shoulders, with some of the layers pulled into a half up do. his exposed ears show off his silver jewelry, and you notice a new piercing on his helix. his dark brows frame his perpetually exhausted eyes, his jaw tight and his mouth in a firm line.

he turns towards you just as you quickly glare at the screen pretending like you weren't just gawking in his direction.

choso leans closer, intruding into your space. "this movie sucks"

"it's only slow in the beginning," you insist, "it gets better towards the middle..."

his touch is warm, it makes your thigh tingle when he places his palm over your exposed flesh.

he strokes his thumb back and forth across your skin, "does it?"

"you should pay attention," you murmur, your legs spreading on their own accord, your face finally turning to his. he's so close that your noses bump, and you look at him with sparkling eyes. "the details are really important..."

"are they?" he answers back with a slight grin, teasing you as always. his shy, introverted personality tucked away somewhere else.

your heart pounds in your chest, your attention quickly moving to yuji who is still asleep on the floor.

"I can't seem to pay attention when you've been walking around the place in this little thing all day," choso adds on, stealing your focus once more.

the heat blooms in every space that makes a pulse. you know it's been a distraction, that was the whole point of you wearing it. the top fits a little too snug, your breasts pushed up and on the cusp of spilling out. the hem was a dangerous length, and you are far too ashamed to admit it was for the purpose of easy access.

his hand trails upward, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing a path up along your inner thigh. you gasp lightly against his lips, an electric spark running up the base of your spine when you feel him press his index finger against your underwear.

"what's got you so wet?" he purrs into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing over your own.

your eyes shoot to yuji again, your anxiety out on full force.

you place one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself out of this precarious position, but choso simply slips his free arm behind your waist and tucks you into his frame. he kisses the corner of your mouth, his affection traveling to the sweet spot against your neck.

you swallow a whimper, his mouth hot and wet against your flesh. "choso-" you whine as quietly as possible, "your brother is right there-"

his lips find yours, he silences your warning with a kiss. his thumb traces the slit of your clothed cunt, his other hand slithering upward to squeeze your left breast.

"he can sleep through a earthquake," he replies nonchalantly. "we're fine"

you know it's true, but it still feels so...inappropriate.

your hand moves to hold his jaw, your body melting into his weight while you both make out on the sofa. he arches forward, keeping your back resting against the arm chair, the blanket falling to your lap and exposing your upper body. he removes his hand from between your legs, and hooks his index finger around the straps of your dress.

he pulls them down, drags the fabric further to reveal the deep swells of your breasts. a moan leaves you when he finally releases you from his kiss, your spit slick lips panting to catch your breath. he pecks your neck, the indentations around your collar bones, and further down. his greedy hands pull at your dress, just low enough that your hardened nipples are exposed. he uses both thumbs to massage the tender buds, a satisfied expression highlighting his face.

"I knew you weren't wearing a fucking bra" he smugly states.

your head falls back against the arm rest, your body tingling with pleasure from him tweaking and rolling your nipples. you shift your head to check on yuji again, your stomach twisting into a knot out of guilt.

before you can let yourself spiral into the depravity of your sin, choso glides his tongue over one of your nipples to silence your thoughts. the blanket is barely covering you both, the hem of your dress hiked up as your body slowly becomes horizontal.

the movie plays, a scene of passionate dialogue ensuing among the characters while you and choso make out heavily on the sofa. the music carries, a sudden boom from the bass making you both freeze. you both turn to yuji, noticing him shift onto his back still heavy with sleep.

you tremble underneath choso, gazing at him with frightened eyes.

"I can't-" you insist with a shake of your head, while he sighs against your neck.

your both in this position for a seconds, until he murmurs an "okay".

before you know it he's picking you up like you’re featherlight, maneuvering your disheveled state until he has you situated on his lap. large hands find your hips, and he drags you back until you can feel his length press up against your ass.

"relax," he whispers again, his teeth nipping at your delicate lobe. "you keep watching the movie..."

you find yourself obliging as you mold into his chest, your breasts heaving when you breath heavily as he grabs one of your tits in his hand to knead at your pebbled nipple. his other hand finds your soaked underwear once more, and presses the cloth between your lips as he massages the folds.

your vision is blurry, the blue light morphing the colors and the shapes all around you. you brain is a fuzzy thing, lobes made of cotton that's slowly being plucked.

choso kisses your shoulder, his hip bucking slightly to add some friction against his cock.

"turn around"

"but-" you stutter, your back slightly arching when he pinches your nipple.

"it'll be quick, just turn around and face me..." he firmly dictates, and you're so horny at this point that you simply just oblige with frustration.

he keeps the blanket in place as you spin, straddling him properly with your arms locked around his neck.

"lay on me," he adds soft, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hides both of you underneath the blanket.

you sigh dreamily feeling the brush of his cock against your cunt, choso's hands grip onto the plush meat of your ass, and you both instantly start grinding against one another for some much needed relief. his soft tee adds friction to your chest, your nipples brushing over his hard torso. your fingers sink into the locks of his hair, your thighs spreading further as you move with a little more conviction.

"shit-" he groans, lightly tapping your ass to egg you on. "oh shit, that feels good..."

you raise yourself up slightly, forgetting for a moment that you both aren't alone. you look down at where your sexes meet, watching yourself slide back and forth over the imprint of his cock. choso stares at your pussy with concentration, one hand traveling to slip an index finger underneath the fabric. he tugs it to the side, giving you better access. you're trembling, your arousal coating the light material of his sweatpants.

choso is bucking his hips subtly, the sound of the sofa creaks mildly. his eyes fall to your chest, the dress resting just under your nipples, your body glistens as a mist of sweat glitters your skin.

your thighs quiver, a ghost of a whine muted by the television screen when your stomach flutters as you reach your orgasm. choso moans, his head falling back to the sofa when he cums, tainting his sweats with a large, noticeable stain.

the heat of the moment dwindles fast for you, and you quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure that yuji is still asleep.

choso's fingers find your chin, turning you back to face him as he lowers you to his lips. "told you nothing wakes him up," he reassures.

"we can't keep doing this," you add with a shake of your head.

"you say this every time," he notes, helping you as he readjusts the straps of your dress.

"we...we went a bit too far..."

"too far is me fucking you, sweetheart..."

you gaze at him with frustration as you slither off his lap, tugging the blanket over you as shame burns your skin. you try to readjust your position, licking your lips only to find that you can still taste him on your tongue. but then he shifts, his mouth against your ear once more.

"and we haven't done that...yet."

[gremlingottoosilly]

The horror and the wild (Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) Medieval Fantasy AU

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. CHAPTER 1 Word count: 4906 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig

This fic on AO3

— I do not wish to speak about politics before breakfast!

— Your Highness, I’m afraid, politics would not be waiting patiently until you’re finished with your sweet pastries. 

— What do you mean? 

— The Emperor’s army is on our doorstep. 

The look on the face of the Princess – your Princess – was priceless. First, it was a surprise, her adorable features all twisted in a very unladylike gasp. Then, it was terror – the first time you saw her ever express that emotion since the palace was always clear of anything that could scare her royal highness, from mice and snakes, and up to severely ugly people(poor, poor Elvin – he’d a good life if it weren’t for his pointy slabby jaw). Then, and it was the final emotion on her illustrious face – it was anger. To nobody’s surprise, the anger was mostly coming at you. 

You see – you’re a Princess's most loyal handmaiden. Raised under her crib, going to the same classes, doing everything in favor of your royal highness, from warming up her jewelry and to trying the food first to see if it’s poisoned – your whole life’s goal is to make sure that the Princess is as comfortable as possible. You’re her shadow, her servant, the closest to a friend she can have – and if you were the bearer of the bad news, it’s only natural that she would be angry at you in the first instance, and not at the imperial army clashing down at your tiny bordering kingdom. 

— Where are the guards?!

— Judging by the screams I am not sure if there are any left in the outer levels of the castle. And if the King didn’t come with a usual note after breakfast, it’s safe to assume that he is more busy. 

With a trained movement, you quickly duck under the table when the Princess, naturally, throws a plate in your direction. You knew she wasn’t meaning it – your poor, innocent darling Princess, she was just as scared as you were but had not learned of how to hide her emotions under sarcasm and false calmness. Your job is to keep her safe – and calm – even if there is no royal family to serve anymore. You don’t want to think of the possible outcomes – King took you in, a simple peasant girl with no talents whatsoever, and gave you an illustrious education, the most sought job in the whole kingdom, and an allowance that would allow you to study in the real collegium, were they to accept women. You don’t want this place to fall in Northern Empire clutches – and you especially don’t want the Princess to learn the harmful ways of two pretty young women trapped in a castle full of enemy soldiers. 

— How could this happen?!

— I’d have an answer for this question, Your Highness, but you ordered to urn any mail from the Northen Empire. Perhaps, they send us quite a bit of war declarations before finally going down. 

Your hand goes to the side of your skirt, clutching on the suicide dagger – if something happens, you’d have to kill the Princess first, take the sin of killing oneself from her innocent soul – and then go down after her, hoping that your dog-like loyalty would allow you to serve her in heaven. 

The Princess has many things that she’d like to take with her to the afterlife. You better start preparing her package soon – this castle wasn’t built to be protected from the army of beasts, hiding under human skin – your kingdom never provoked any wars, always trying to search for the opportunity of negotiations – and now this comes to bite you right in your soft rear, without a sufficient amount of guards or a suitable army to protect itself. 

You’d pray for the god, but your god wants you to die. 

— Princess, we need to…

Before you could say anything else, an explosion erupts somewhere in the southern tower – the closest place to enter the Princess chambers. You can hear screaming, you can hear laughing – a foreign language, the one you are proficient with, but it never made it less barbaric, less harsh. These people talk like swords clangs against each other – like a harsh metal against your skull. You’d give up anything to not understand what they are talking about. 

There is something to be done before the soldiers arrive, finding only a few guards and two pretty, terrified young things. You might not be afraid of death, but you sure are terrified of what will come before their blades would slit your throat. You do not wish to die with blood between your legs. You do not wish that fate for the Princess either. 

“The Princess should be here.”

“Did Lord say anything about trophies?”

“Don’t take anything now. Tiger said we were never here – he would pay us later”

“What about…”

“Don’t kill the Princess either. Emperor want her to himself, remember?”

“Come on, are we here for a whore?”

“A royal whore, dumbass. Now shut up before Emperor hears you.”

They laugh and you can hear the Princess whimpering, crying softly – all of the layers of harshness are washed away with every tear rolling down her perfect cheek. You move to them as fast as you can – these stupid clothes allow you at least some freedom of movement, saved from the excessive decorations and expensive, heavy fabrics – you are only as few levels higher than cleaning rags. you could probably rip away the lower levels of your skirt and run – the Princess wouldn’t even be able to move without your hand steadying herself. 

You need strength to not slap her right now – you know that the pain on her perfect puffy cheek would help get her to listen, but nothing in your body moves to ever hurt her, no matter the cause. You push yourself to the door, thinking – your castle isn’t the highest one in the whole world, if anything, the Princess would be able to escape either via the window or the secret tunnels – but they would search for her, they would never accept defeat like that. Even if you’d stall them for long enough, pulling every bit of luck you don’t have – they wouldn’t stop if they had the goal of catching the Princess. 

— Your radiance, we have to go!

— Where? The castle is going to crumble any second now, and Mama and Papa are…

You press your ear against the tough wood, listening to the soldier’s speaking – language is even harsher now when the adrenaline runs through your veins instead of blood. You would give up anything to be strong – to have your dancing and embroidering lessons switched to sword fighting, to archery, to read dark arcana books instead of romance novels that you and Her Preciousness liked so much. Your hands are soft and delicate, only a bit harsh from occasional cleaning and serving – you’re a shame to any servant in the castle, a house pet made to entertain and please, not to fight and work. 

The Princess is a cherished treasure for your kingdom. Protected and hidden away, the King was smart enough to know that a royal gem like her would make all the old rulers of kingdoms surrounding yours go into a frenzy – so Her Radiancy wasn’t ever allowed to any royal mingling and balls until she’d reach the age of at least 21. Her birthday was next month – a small mercy, knowing that there was a possibility of never getting of that age. 

“Is that a Princess?”

You hear a woman – probably one of the higher members of the court, considering her high-pitched accented whimpers with a familiar voice. God bless her soul and dedicate her a quick death – you don’t want to think what would come of her if not for this prayer.

“Princess should be in her quarters. This one definitely doesn’t speak like a royal meat”

“How do we even know which one is the Princess?”

“She should speak like one. Would be easier if her family ordered a fucking portrait.” 

But…you were with the Princess your whole life. You know how to act like her, you know how she talks, how all royals talk. You know how manners, you know how to sing, how to dance, you received the education that allowed her to copy your study work and give it to her personal teachers – her own reflection wouldn’t copy her better than you would. 

You’re young, like a Princess, you’re pretty, almost like a Princess – and you’re loyal like a dog, itching to pay your debt to the royal family. 

— Your Highness! You need to run, please, just take the secret route through the walls and…

It was the most horrible moment for her to put her foot down.

— I…I live to serve the royal family. Dying for you will be the greatest of honors. 

— I will not just leave you here!

— They’d defile and kill us both, Your Highness. But if I just pretend to be you, they won’t come looking for you, won’t they? They would have what they wanted and you will be free.

— What about you? 

You’d feel hurt for how quickly she ran to the secret tunnel – if such feelings were normal for a servant to have. You’d feel betrayed if it wasn’t the life or death situation – if you weren’t putting on her dress as swiftly as possible before the soldiers would come running for you. It’s funny, how you always wanted to try her dress – how you were jealous of everything she had, even if you were the closest to her – you pride yourself in not caring about such silly mortal possessions, and yet, you always wanted to try something as beautiful as her dress. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror – terrified, small, ready to die at any point or to be hauled back to the Northern Empire like a piece of meat. Dress suits you, the bright pink would tell about innocence and radiance – but not it smells of blood and betrayal. If the soldiers thought that the Princess killed herself in her room, they would surely not think about trying to find her. 

You push the tiny dagger against your wrist, praying to all of your knowledge of medicine that your death will be quick and as painless as possible. You left out a silent prayer – knowing that the god would only welcome you after your death. 

Not a war, Horangi corrects himself – a massacre. 

***

Tiger of the North was fucking tired.

This whole mission – declaring war that no one seen and no one wanted, marching through the street without an army behind him, felt more like a bandit’s doing than something that a general of the best army in the world would do. This whole operation is a stunt, an order from the Emperor that no one expected – seriously, sometimes he still felt like a child with new, exciting toys. For all he knew, König never saw a Princess – yet, he sent his best men to take her out, not caring that this would mean a war on the bordering kingdom.

Not his fault this shithole didn’t even bother to reply to any of the Emperor’s letters regarding the marital status of the Princess. Not his fault they don’t even have a proper army – the king died, gutted like a fucking pig, and the queen followed soon after. Their unit can count less than 20 people, with royal hounds and other animals to help – yet, no one was able to foresee them entering the castle and butchering it. It’s a hunt, not a war or even an assassination – a hunt for the Princess, the useless fucking thing. 

If they’d only bothered to get at least some portraits – something to tell what she looks like. Perhaps, she is ugly, a mix of a toad that fucked a pile of shit. Perhaps, she is crazy and eats pillows and keeps her handmaidens' heads like a trophy. Perhaps, she don’t fucking exist and the king just didn’t want to say out loud that his dick was never working enough to produce an heir. 

— Search the quarters! I don’t want them to have time to know that their precious king is dead. 

The low rumble of König beside his almost makes him dart from surprise. He wears a mask, of course, not even trusting his people to see how he looks like – perhaps, he is as ugly as a toad that…ah, shit, he is using the same comparison again. 

A faceless ruler and a faceless Princess – a match made in heaven. 

— You think other kingdoms would send their condolences? 

— I’m sure that Price is already aching to write a congratulatory letter for the expansion of the empire. A nice addition to the title, ja? 

The emperor laughs, a sword in his hand, dark from the king’s blood. Horangi still doesn’t understand why he would decide to go on such a dangerous operation – if anything, they could haul the Princess back to the capital, or at least the nearest Empire territories – but no, König decided to go here himself, searching for a Princess that would, surely, not be worthy his attention. If this man didn’t want to marry all the options other kingdoms offered him, he surely wouldn’t be satisfied with a girl from this shithole of a country. Their land is barely enough for a normal castle, let alone all of the riches that the Empire provided. 

Yet, König stumbles in every room, searching for something – for someone. Other soldiers don’t dare to take trophies in front of their emperor, knowing that this operation should be as secretive as possible – no other rulers would bat an eye for a mysterious royal passing and the quick marriage of the Princess of this kingdom, but Graves would be quite concerned and bitching about the Northern Empire coming close to his kingdom. God, if König could just bathe every last one of them in blood, he would have. 

— Sir, I believe the Princess should be here Unless she killed herself already. 

— Those people honor death more than they do life. Better be fast before I’d have to marry a corpse. 

— We could bring her back. 

— Nothing can wash off the dead smell even after resurrection. You think why Krueger can only have sex with common whores? 

They both have to suppress their laugh at the thought of the royal advisor. Poor, dead Krueger, serving a contract that even death would not be able to break – it’s a good thing to have it on their side. Provides a good amount of jokes just from being around him. 

König rushes to the door that looks the most guarded – judging only by the amount of dead servants around it. The Princess must be here and, knowing the traditions of your kingdom, he has about a minute before you’d kill yourself, yelling something ridiculous about finding solace in death and that they would never take you alive. The door comes crashing down ridiculously easy – or it’s his strength challenging in the form of barbaric savagery. When he pushed into the room, he didn’t see what he was expecting to see. 

He sees something better. 

You look divine in the moonlight, your form, draped in an expensive dress that you only managed to take on halfway through, getting stuck in that stupid corset and billions of tiny bows and cutting jewels. You look majestic, godlike, you look like something from a fairytale. He was anxious before this, thinking if it was worth it – overthinking every bit of the operations, evaluating if the enemy kingdoms would be fine with him just taking you. König wasn’t sleeping a good few nights before this – now he looks at you and wants to kneel in front of your perfect form. 

— No wonder they didn’t have portraits. They wouldn’t capture your beauty. 

He shook the knife – little thing, as dainty as you are – from your trembling hands. Poor thing terrified of him – he’d pick you up and haul you on your shoulder already, but he wants to take a moment and just admire the comparison between his huge, muscular arms and your fragile form. He knows he is big, imposing, threatening – but compared to you, he feels like a war god paying tribute to his newest sacrifice. 

You shake in his grasp, not fighting it – Princess wouldn’t fight, you remind yourself. If killing yourself is not possible, if your dignity is tarnished, the death and torture shall be met with silence – you put your lips together, as firmly as you can. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sobbing when his hand goes to cup your face – a faint trace of your makeup staining his dark gloves. 

— This is the declaration of war. You were…

— This is no war, meine Liebe. How could we fight the nation with a dead king? 

The Princess would cry, learning about the death of her parents. You try to force more tears, making yourself look as miserable as possible – it isn’t hard in this brute’s hands, with his soldiers surrounding you – but, for some reason, he doesn’t look surprised when you are not crying immediately at the mention of the death of your supposed parents. 

He laughs, cupping your face in a rough, crude gesture. He shouldn’t treat Princess like this – even you are not used to men being this vile, to speak of such lewd matters with his men. They surround you, laughing, not even bothering to pay the least bit of respect in front of their Emperor. 

He wears a hood and it makes him look like an executioner, not a ruler. But, perhaps, you would welcome a butcherer more than you would a husband. 

— Let me go! The guards shall rise to my abduction and they will not leave thou to…

You don’t even need to force yourself to speak like her – you’re royal by any means, other than blood and service. You can imitate her your whole life if needed, shadowing her your whole short existence – it only hurts you more when you are praying that the Princess, dressed up in your garments, would be able to escape. You know that someone will save her, and take care of her – it’s just like the plot of your favorite romance book. An abandoned Princess of the burned kingdom rises to be the wife of a mysterious, masked blood knight, saving him from pushing his soul into the darkness. You, in this story, would be just a minor victim for the author to kill.

— The guards would rise if they weren’t dead, Princess. Too late to call for them now. 

He sneers at this “Princess” like a snake, ready to sink her teeth into your soft, limp body. You whimper, finally trying to get your knife from his hand – as gracefully as you can, remembering that you are to stall the time for her to escape, not to actually save yourself. He laughs and lets you go suddenly – only to pick you up like you weigh nothing. Pick you up like a bride, not a pig for him to gut. 

The tip of your ears is burning – your whole face is burning, you feel ashamed, embarrassed, angry, every emotion swirls in your head as he doesn’t even try to be subtle about his affection. You thank god for the layers of skirt you are wearing – but the upper part of the dress is barely holding together, showing a scandalous amount of shoulder. You are tainted – a scandal in the court, if there was a court alive. 

— Put me down this instant. My kingdom will not just accept these levels of disrespect!

You say this weakly than you wanted to. He laughs – thunder and bear roar, ocean waves against the mountains – you whimper when his hand goes to rip the upper part of your dress entirely, leaving you barely covered, with only three layers of clothing and a corset between you and his horrible, dangerous hands. A lady should not be seen by men when she is in less than five layers of clothing – still, you feel much better when the heavy fabric lets go of your skin. Still, you feel mortified, knowing, what would happen when he started to take off your clothes. 

Well…you think you know what will happen. You and Her Highness read books with a scandalous amount of intimacy – touches, hugs, kisses even, the last book having record five instants of the main heroes being in close proximity with each other – you also know that whenever a male enemy soldier captures a woman, he is doing…something before killing them. Not quite sure what, but obviously torturous. 

— The only kingdom that is left for you, your Highness, is what lies between your legs. I’ll be sure to pay my regards later.

Before you could say something – anything for that matter, he already hauls you away, still stuck in his hands like a trophy. You thank god that he doesn’t see the difference between you and the Princess. You never knew your acting talents would be of this amount, but nonetheless, you feel complete, knowing that the Princess is safe and sound. 

— What is the purpose of your actions? 

You are weak, voice whimpering and quiet. You don’t want to touch him, but the hungry gazes of his soldiers make you weak and fragile – you cling to him, trying to cover your modesty. The corset is a part of the wardrobe that no fine lady should ever show to men – yet, this is the only thing now that is keeping your tits together, saving at least some of your dignity. The heavy skirt of the torn dress lingers on your legs, covering you as much as barely holding up fabric can. König’s chest rumbles with a laugh when he notices you clinging onto him like a helpless kitten. 

— I’m taking my bride as your parents were not kind enough to answer any of the proposals.

— Why didn’t you just visit? 

If it were for him, he would just sprawl you on the ground and take what he wants. He would, were he a simple soldier, not the North Emperor – he would if there weren’t any witnesses if there were no intentions of marrying you later. But alas, he needs your hands in marriage – he needs you whole in marriage, from head to toe, from your heart to your soul, from your pussy to that sweet mouth of yours – and he can’t have all that unless he is patient. 

— I did. Right now, for that matter.

— As the only heir to the throne, this would mean the death of my country. You can’t just…

— Who is there to stop me, little one? Your parents? Dead. Your army? They would kneel for my men were we at actual war. 

You close your mouth. He laughs again, this terrifying hood of his moving when he shakes his head. You sob, tears flowing freely down your cheeks – it’s a wonder you can still talk while crying like this, but you need to keep up the act and you need to stall the time as much as possible. His hand goes to wipe away your tears and, for a second, you almost want to bite him. But, Princesses don’t bite – they lay in the hands of their captors and wait for princes to save them. 

— The other kingdoms would protect us, we had war pacts!

— Were you loved enough to start a war with the Empire to protect you from getting married? 

— I shall…

— You’re too young to speak like a queen, Liebe. Leave that to me, ja? 

You open your mouth. 

You close your mouth. 

You open your mouth again. 

— Please, let me go. 

This is a quiet, soft sob – König stops for a second, looking at your fragile, vulnerable expression. You’re as weak as a kitten, as adorable as a bunny – and precious, his little treasure, tucked away nicely in the deepest corners of this kingdom. He almost feels bad for breaking you, for taking you away. He killed many men, the king included, and he captured more land than his father ever could dream of – the biggest empire lies at his hands and yet, he feels weak when you cry in his hands. 

It still suits you more – a pained expression, pure terror, all the emotions that a young woman like you should experience when she is captured by someone like him – he believes in terror through submission and the tears streaming down your face makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

— I have all the right for you, little one. It’s your father’s fault that you were not protected more. 

He laughs, his large, imposing hand goes to cup your ass – you don’t even understand how his touch manages to get through this many layers of clothing. Your skirt is in complete disarray when he touches your legs, squishing and destroying the crinoline parts and whale bones. So much went into creating this skirt, a horrifying construct that never allowed the Princess to move freely, stuck in one place like a glorified little dolly – now it becomes your grave, mortifying and freezing you in one place. 

— You can’t…no, please, don’t…

He grabs your hips with the ferocity of a warrior, not an emperor. Rulers shouldn’t kidnap Princesses from neighboring countries, and they shouldn’t lead their troops on an operation that would destroy any diplomatic relationships with them – but he stands here, no more than a normal soldier, and you were never this terrified in your life before. He is a monster, a beast, an anomaly that shouldn’t exist in this world – even your desire to protect the Princess isn’t stopping you from crying and shaking. You bite your lips and sob softly, quietly, hoping he won’t just throw you to his men. 

— This is what politics leads to, no? Your father decided to stop being diplomatic…and I did too. 

He isn’t my father, you want to scream. He did nothing but take you from the streets, and slums you were scrambling aimlessly like nothing more but a tiny critter under his boots – he gave you everything, any book you wanted, the best company in the whole kingdom. He isn’t your father, still, but you pay for his mistakes – mistakes that you had no idea of. Princess ordered you to ignore any mail that would come from “This Northern brute” and you didn’t know that it could come to this. 

If only you were to steal those letters and read them instead of throwing them away…but what would it come to? Princess wouldn’t marry someone like König, she had no like for the emperor twice her age, for the human who defiled the very laws of nature, sitting in his high castle, ordering the undead soldiers around. Monster with, probably, three heads and two faces, with four hands hiding under his magnificent armor. A beast who is…

A best who is cradling you in his arms like you were his lover, not his victim. 

— Put me down. Please. 

— I’m getting tired of listening to little Princesses wailing. Tell me, Liebling, do you wish to continue this journey quietly or unconsciously? 

His hand goes to your neck – no doubt, he would be able to squish the life out of you if he so wished. No doubt, you are fucked – utterly and completely, with his ability to do whatever he wants your inability to stop him in any way. Sobbing softly, not wanting for him to continue this humiliation, you simply nod – to whatever option he deems appropriate. Princess would be screaming, yelling for help, and she would stomp her adorable feet on the ground until she’d get what she wanted – but you are no Princess, and playing pretend already makes you miserable enough. 

— I do not wish to see the destruction of my kingdom. 

— It’s not destroyed, little Princess. Merely defiled, captured and burned down. 

— You didn’t…

— Of course not, kleine Hase. I wouldn’t dare to burn the newest addition to my empire…unless you would make me to. 

It’s not a threat – it’s a promise, poorly concealed by the obvious smile in his voice. You cling to his chest and hear the rumble of his laugh when he pushes his cape over your shivering form. It’s a small form of comfort, but an unwelcome one – you’d rather be shivering, naked, and exposed in front of his troops than find comfort in the way he treats you. His cloak is heavy, more suited for the harsh weather of the central parts of the Empire – not your kingdom, mostly warm and wet, with bountiful rains and plentiful soil. You understand why he would want this land – you don’t understand why he would want you. 

— Don’t hurt my people. 

— Be nice then. You can be nice to your husband, ja? 

If you weren’t a Princess, you’d claw his fucking eyes out – get your dainty hands under his hood and scrap the pulsating flesh, turn his face into a mush of blood and gore. If you were real Princess, you would declare war on the Empire and die the protector of your kingdom – not a terrified girl. 

But you’re neither a Princess nor a commoner. 

You push your lips together, allowing König to take you away. Accepting your fate not with dignity, but with quiet, fearful acceptance. 

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wears earrings that glint in the sunlight.

Nico is very aware of them.

He’s never seen anything like them before. Bianca wore earrings, little citrine gems that dotted both earlobes, and Hazel wears little hoops in each ear. Piper has dozens of beaded earrings she made herself. Annabeth wears little owl charms. Percy has a diamond stud, Connor’s ears are pierced all over, and Lou Ellen has gauges she’s slowly stretching out. Most people in camp have a piercing or two, really, some of them done by the Apollo or Aphrodite campers, and really sunny days they glint together like the massive disco ball that spun over the slot machines of the Lotus.

But Will’s earrings are different.

There’s no…pokey part, is the best way Nico can describe it. Each piece is a delicate gold chain, maybe two inches long each, with a thin blue sapphire hanging off one end. He threads them through the tiny holes in his lobes, and they dangle, glittering every time he moves. The sapphires refract the light when he tucks back his hair, shining an array of tiny rainbows on his neck, on his jaw.

He is distracted by them, often.

“You’re staring.”

Nico blinks, twitching back to his body. The blue sapphires he’d been staring at are replaced with blue eyes, twinkling with amusement, and he flushes.

“I was — spaced out.”

“Mhm.” Will turns back to his arts & crafts project, dragging a brushful of lavender paint over stained wood. A jewelry box, by the looks of it. “If by spaced out, you mean staring at me.”

Nico returns resolutely to his own project. His is much less delicate than Will’s — the sheath he has strapped to his calf at all times broke, last week, and he’s felt naked without his dagger — and there’s a warp in the leather, where his attention slipped. He focuses on smoothing it.

“Not on purpose.”

“No?” Coming from anyone else, the teasing tone of voice would have him raising his shoulders, twisting his face. But from Will it’s — tolerable, somehow. Perhaps it’s the hand that rests gently on his wrist. “You space out at me a lot, then. Crazy coincidence.”

Nico stars at the freckly, tanned hand, waiting for it to move. It doesn’t. Will keeps it there, callused fingers brushing gentle circles on the base of his thumb, dipping and swooping along with his quiet humming.

Nico swallows. “You’re — distracting.”

Will’s smile spreads slowly across his face; stilted, almost, like he’d tried to bite it back.

“How?”

“You’re —” Nico gestures, vaguely, at all of him. Will’s smile grows, and his cheeks slowly grow pink, blonde ringlets falling out of place and curtaining his face.

“I’m?” he presses.

His voice is soft, near silent; searching, prodding. Hoping. Nico’s breath hitches, and his palms sweat, and Will’s gentle tracing pauses, briefly. He bites his lip, worrying the chapped skin, breathing quick; in, out, in, out. In a slow, calculated movement, watching Nico carefully, carefully, out of the corner of his eyes, he slides their palms together, fingers resting loosely in the spaces of Nico’s open, twitching hand.

“…Is this okay?”

Nico feels lightheaded. He’s sure his palms are clammy, although he can’t tell against Will’s. He gnaws at his lip again. Nico’s exhales are quick, short.

He curls his fingers until they rest on Will’s cracked knuckles.

“You’re striking,” he says quietly.

Ducking his head, Will turns back to his painting. He dips his brush in a deep, blooming green, now, tracing it along the edge of the lavender.

He’s smiling.

[mypoisonedvine]

dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭

he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway

i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲

it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...

𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 | neighbor!reader x dilf!cillian

length: 3.3k

warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity

When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.

It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...

But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.

"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—

He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.

The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.

You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...

Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.

He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.

You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?

You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.

You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."

The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.  

“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure.  “Tell me how good it feels…”

He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill.  You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy.  He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways.  He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed.  His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram.  Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…

And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too.  He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.

His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.

Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff.  But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then.  He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.

hi mr. murphy.

turn on the lamp on the desk.

He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window.  Fuck.  Fuck!

He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it.  He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again.  Fuck.

He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience.  If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples.  “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach.  Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.

You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass.  You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—

He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.

Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips.  A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.  With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.

He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him.  “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away.  “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago.  Why was something as simple as that so sexy?

Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure.  You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me.  Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”

You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening.  He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart?  Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”

You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?

Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled.  “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed.  “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”

He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks.  He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.

You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.

“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me.  Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”

You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—

“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”

You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly.  He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…

You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair.  You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip.  He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains.  “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”

You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done.  When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife.  Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.

He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was.  He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too.  Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.

Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it.  He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway.  Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.

“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat.  He opened it, sighing as he looked at them.  Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.

His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings.  “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him.  “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”

He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”

He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.

“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”

You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.  

She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house.  "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.

“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.

“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

[allfearstofallto]

Always Under Skin, Even When it Gets Removed

Yandere! Childe x Reader

Part of {Mai Playlist}

Childe was a nuisance. Persistent. A vermin. Childe was a pest. Like an infestation of roaches, you could do everything in your power to get rid of him, but he'd still be somewhere nearby. Determination was one of his strongest traits, and he was determined to ruin you.

Being married to him was never in your cards and if you could've never met him at all, you would've been happy. Yet for almost a year, you were forced to be his doting wife. Only managing to steal yourself away after months of planning and a few close calls. The taste of free air, even if it was the air of Snezhnaya, was the best thing on your tongue, better than even your favorite food cooked to perfection.

You didn't think you'd live the life of a nomad, but it seemed easier. Paranoia was second nature to you now, and staying in one place seemed dangerous. He could be anywhere, around any corner, close by, but not showing himself until he knew it would fuck you over. Was living life on the road considered freedom? You didn't know, but anything would be better than another day with Childe.

“How far will this take me?” You held up a good ring to a carriage driver, making sure to keep your face covered beneath your hood. You took a lot when you left, mostly jewelry, things that were small and expensive.

He eyes the ring over before dropping it back into the palm of your hand, “It'll get you pretty far, but where are you even trying to go?”

“Anywhere is fine,” you said quickly.

The man helped you up into the back of his wagon, where he kept his wares. Mostly agricultural things, fresh produce and hay. It wasn't the best place you'd ridden before, but it was far from being the worst.

You understood why people were weary of you. You weren't making much of an effort to not come off as strange, but you weren't out to make friends. The wagon swayed as the sun began to set over the horizon, he didn't tell you how long he'd be driving and quite honestly, you didn't care. At the next port, you'd stow yourself away onto some other vehicle, never stopping, not even for a breath.

You let your head rest back against the hard wooden wall, you let your arms fall to your side, you let the movement of the wagon sway you to sleep. Morning would come and you'd be awoken by the well-known feeling of the carriage lurching to a stop and sunlight beaming through the cracks in the wall. Outside sounded like a bustling city, although you didn't know where, quite honestly it didn't matter.

“It's back here, sir,” you heard the voice of the carriage driver say as you watched shadows fall over the doorway. You can recognize Childe. Recognize his smell, his voice, a strand of his hair if you were to find one, and most importantly, you could recognize his footsteps. Slow, drawn out, and precise. Your blood went cold, noticing that the driver wasn't walking alone.

The door was slammed open and before you could even make a break for it, cold metal was pressed to your neck. Sharp enough to slice your head right off your body if you made any sudden moves, you could already feel the steel biting into your skin.

“Already running away again?” You didn't even want to look at him, but he used the tip of his blade to tilt your head up. Still wearing a smile as he looked down upon you, “I will admit, I'm proud of you. You managed to stay away longer than I expected,” the blade pushed a lot harder into your neck, “I missed you, my angel.”

You could say nothing as he took you by the hand, pulling you from the cart and onto the ground. You weren't treated gently, not when he was angry. His anger was a menace to deal with. The bigger the smile, the words his rage, and he looked practically elated to see you.

“You took everything, but this,” he tossed your wedding band down, it fell onto your body and landed on your thighs. The ring was warm, like he'd been clutching it in his hand. Knowing him, he probably hadn't let it go since he discovered you were gone.

Without much of an argument, you slipped the ring back on your finger. The small band felt more like a shackle, than something meant to adorn your body. With it, your taste of delicious, true freedom was ripped from your mouth almost as quickly as you'd gotten it. But you'd never get to taste it again.

Childe was all smiles and laughter as he helped you into his own carriage. That smile not reaching his dead, hollow eyes. The ride to Snezhnaya would be a long one, you wonder how long he could contain his anger till then?

[megistusdiary]

Sugar Mommy! Arlecchino knows how to please fem reader gently after spoiling you from a shopping trip

Arlecchino is an intimidating woman. Even at her work, everyone was scared of her. Even when people took a short glance at her, they felt that its their last day already. But that is the opposite of you. You love women who can kill you by just them looking at you. When you two met, she knew she could trust you fully. After a short discussion about the sugar mommy/sugar baby situation, Arlecchino only wants to be in return is loyalty, but the intimacy is optional for you. Then you will get her wealth, but she will spoil you rotten.

So imagine, after spoiling you from a long shopping trip, Arlecchino noticed how much she reassures you that everything you ask for is okay to take the things you need, even if she spoils you, you still humbly refused for her spending so much on you, and she loves that and getting soft for you.

She also reassures you that you're doing fine on taking her slow and well. Soft sex is mostly her favorite, especially when she's aware of how big she is, which leads you to be a pillow princess. The way she holds your waist as she moves slowly into you til you take her entire cock slowly and whispers sweet praises to you in her native language. You'll ended up moaning softly and even accidentally slip out the word "Daddy" as she fucks you well.

And of couse, she's not going to pull out til she's satisfied to fill you with her cum in addition to spoil you. She's so good at doing aftercare by giving you many soft kisses and praising you a lot. You'll be her small spoon after <3

-☘️

size kink AND daddy kink whew... a feast for aris

PLEASEEE i need this so bad :( she would literally spoil you so well. anything you want. and if you refuse to ask, that's okay, she's very perceptive.

she knows when your eyes linger on something for slightly too long. or when your fingertips graze an item of clothing you are interested in.

she doesn't need you to tell her. she already knows, and she's swiping her credit card.

i absolutely adore size kinks with women sorry. the way arlecchino is so much taller than you, with nice toned arms and abs, perfect for holding your hips while she fucks you missionary on her expensive silk bed.

she might even enjoy sitting up and bouncing your hips for you on her cock, enjoying your little mewls with each movement of her hips.

oh, and if she buys you any jewelry, bonus points if that's the only thing you have on while she fucks you.

and, if she hears you call her daddy, her mind is turned to mush, mumbling in french in your ears about how sweet you are, how you're perfect for her.

when she finally fills you up, she keeps you on her lap, rubbing your back while she keeps you plugged up full of her cum. she kisses your cheek and neck, resting her chin on your head while you snuggle into her lap.

i need this 😵‍💫

[undead-supernova]

Bullshit! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 3

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it

note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.

wc: 4k

The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 

But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 

Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.

You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized sweatshirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 

And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.

He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.

“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.

And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”

It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.

And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.

“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”

Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 

It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.

“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”

“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.

He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”

There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.

He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.

Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?

“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”

The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 

“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”

“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.

“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.

Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”

He shrugged. “Hit me.”

And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.

After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.

“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.

He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”

“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 

“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 

“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”

“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.

Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.

And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”

“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 

And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…

Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”

You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”

But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”

By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.

You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 

But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 

You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:

New.

Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.

As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.

He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 

But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 

How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.

You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 

“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.

Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”

That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 

“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”

For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 

“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”

Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.

“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”

A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 

“Well, uh,�� you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”

“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.

And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.

Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 

“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.

Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 

There was just something about you that drove him mad.

“What thing?”

“Act like you’re not interesting.”

Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”

“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.

“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”

Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”

“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”

He didn’t know where to start. 

Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.

But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.

And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.

He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 

He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  

His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.

But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.

“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”

Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.

“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”

“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”

“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”

“I-I am?”

“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”

“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.

“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”

When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.

“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.

“Me?”

“You,” you said with a nod.

He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”

“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 

“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 

“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”

“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 

“Am I wrong?”

A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”

Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.

Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 

You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”

After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 

“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.

He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”

“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 

You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.

Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.

“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 

“Was that…not embarrassing?”

That was when you realized what was happening.

“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 

“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.

You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  

“How?”

“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”

Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”

A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.

“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”

“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 

You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 

You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”

He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”

“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe

[soapssuds]

Helloo! Hope your having a great day/night! Just wanted to ask if I could request a Feixiao from Hsr x fem reader who's also a foxian? If not its okay, but if so, it coule be like sfw headcannons and then nsfw?👉👈

I hope you have a great day/night too!!!

Feixiao x Fem!Foxian!Reader

warnings; nsfw, +18 under the cut

sfw

Loves to spoil you

If she isn't racing around, then she is most definitely with you

Which is why I mentioned that she likes to spoil you

Because since she is so busy all the time she rarely has the time to spend with you

So she is just dying to spend every waking moment that she has for free time with you

And that's where the spoiling comes in

She is basically carrying you bridal style and racing around the yaoqing

She's buying you food, drinks, and all sorts of trinkets and jewelry that your heart desires

Buys you all the clothes you could possibly want

And it doesn't put a single dent into her credits (I headcanon that feixiao is super rich)

Always makes sure that your tail is always brushed, and not a single hair out of place

Loves to play with your ears

Will definitely use your tail as a fluffy pillow

Since she spoils you, you can't bring yourself to ever pull your tail away (not that you would want to anyway...)

nsfw

Speaking of spoiling you...

She likes seeing you in pretty lingerie sets

Likes seeing how your tail makes the pieces pop too!

Will definitely have you do a trip tease and would want to guess which set you have on underneath your clothes

Now

Despite being fast on her feet, she likes taking things slow with you.

She'll have you sat prettily on her lap as she would place her hands on your hips and have you grind against her.

Since she likes spoiling you so much she always takes her time

She'll finger you slowly

Taste you slowly

Grind against you slowly

Even when her cunt is on yours, she will be pressing down ever so slowly while rotating her hips to get that nice slick feeling.

She always likes to see how your tail wags in sporadic movements

Tense, and wanting more

Always wanting her to go faster

She likes hearing you beg too <3

[beomiracles]

omg what if!!! nipple bondage + food play (like whipped cream) for soobin

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

DAY 27 : SOOBIN + NIPPLE BONDAGE — The metal clanks against his teeth and Soobin carefully pulls back, tugging the clamp around your nipple as he does.

Nipple play (bondage) may include biting, sucking, touching (roughly or gently), and rubbing the nipples and areola, the area around the nipple. 

pairings soobin x fem!reader warnings nipple bondage (use of metal clamps), nipple play, sex (protected/unprotected not mentioned), kissing, some blood but it doesn't have to do with the bondage, kind of masochist!soobin?

#serene adds ✎ I need to look up catchy phrases to put here, day 27 and I'm running out of things to say. (which is insane coming from someone like me)

EVENT POST

“Be still”, Soobin warns, his large hand around your hip locking you in place. You bite your swollen lips, fighting off a small whine. Your thighs tremble around his, and your palms feel sweaty against his shoulders. — The hand on your waist tugs you forward and you emit a small moan as Soobin’s cock throbs deep inside your cunt. Your chest heaves, the claps on your nipples dangling with every shuddering breath you take. 

Your boyfriend hums, eyes training to the way the clamps restrained you, how they made your tits stay perky under his gaze. You shiver when his knuckles brush the swell of your tits, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. It felt like you were on fire, every last bit of you, slowly being torn apart by the burning flames. — His fingers lock around the small charm, tugging on it lightly, the motion sends a jolt of electricity through you, bruising pain mixing with an incredible desire. 

It’s almost impossible to remain unmoving, and your nails dig into the blades of his shoulders, leaving red and angry crescent-like marks on his skin. — Soobin chuckles, not even trying to hide his enjoyment as he watches you struggle. “S’okay”, he hums, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. “You’re doing good, love.” 

The praise is swallowed by your shaky moan as he hoists you up, cock withdrawing from your warm cunt, leaving an empty and longing frustration behind. Your body feels weak, exhausted from being on edge, painfully aware of the dangling accessories on your chest. — Soobins arms wrap around your figure as he gently lays you down on the soft mattress. “There”, he exhales, the pads of his fingers tracing the outlines of your face.  

Your body gets swallowed by the duvet, and you suddenly feel heavy, every movement of yours takes twice if not three times as much effort. Yet you blink up at your boyfriend, bleary eyes finding his warm ones. — It’s mere moments until he’s back between your legs, thick cock parting your slick folds as he slides back inside your inviting cunt with ease. He remains almost perfectly still for a moment, his attention seemingly elsewhere as his gaze follows the pieces of jewelry clamped to your nipples. 

But it’s not long until he’s pounding into you again. The burning stretch of his cock feels similar to the one on your chest, it was everywhere; but never too much. No, it was always just enough. Just enough to keep you on the very edge but never to let you tip over. He would always be there to catch you. 

His hands trail along your sides, groping at your soft flesh like it was his last time. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous”, Soobin groans, his wet lips latching onto your collarbone. His arms slide under your back, bringing you close as his warm mouth kisses down your chest, teeth gently nipping at your tits, purposefully avoiding your sensitive nipples. 

You squirm under him, silently pleading for more though you were unsure if you were going to handle it. — You feel him smile against your skin, dark eyes peering up at you through feathery lashes. His thrusts are slow, deliberate, he enjoys drawing it out, enjoys making you suffer for as long as he can until you eventually crack. And when you do, he’ll be right there to piece you back together again. It was just the way he liked it. 

The cry leaving your lips as he slips the jewelry into his mouth is deafening. The metal clanks against his teeth and Soobin carefully pulls back, tugging the clamp around your nipple as he does. You want to scream, but you don’t. Biting down on your lip, you barely notice the skin ripping, or the metallic taste flooding your mouth and coating your tongue. But Soobin does. 

He’s by your face in seconds, kissing away the tears that had unknowingly rolled down your cheeks before his attention flickers down to your bloody lips. “Oh angel”, he coos, sympathy crossing his features as he leans down to press his mouth to yours. Blood and saliva mixes and blends into one, but he doesn’t seem to mind. — He’s stopped moving, but the persistent throb of his cock remains and your thighs twitch as you choke back another moan. 

Soobin hums, his hand sliding down your body, fingers finding your swollen clit as he gives it the stimulation it desperately begs for. You almost want to cry all over again, cunt fluttering around his cock as your orgasm washes over you. — Soobin kisses you through it, relishing in the way you came undone for him, around him. 

You barely notice how he carefully removes the clamps, releasing your sore nipples from their confinements. Only when his warm tongue licks along one of them do you register what’s happening, a shaky whimper ripping from your throat. — He groans, slowly fucking into your now overstimulated cunt as he continues to soothe your aching tits. It was all just an excuse to have his mouth on you, you knew that. 

But his fingers tracing small patterns on your thigh, and his hot mouth on your already flaming body, takes away any coherent thought. The burning stretch of his cock makes you dizzy, but it’s not enough to make you push him off. No, it was always just enough, just enough to keep you on the edge. 

And Soobin would never let you fall. 

kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng @bamgeutsz

© all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[theeternalwombtarot]

what you need to hear right now: channeled from spirit

message: I love this type of art, I have tons of it on my Pinterest but anyway that's sort of beside the point, I feel called to do a message but I feel very low on energy within as of late. I want to try and keep this one short, sweet, and clear. As you know, especially if you're a light worker or intuitive, shifts within the collective, within energy however it comes are always felt first by us. If there is a symptom of change, I'm feeling it 10x over so that I can prepare to relay that information to the collective because I would honestly consider myself to be a vessel. As I cope with my life and my own human experience I am also in the process of collecting important information so that I can guide the collective effectively and let me tell you, I've been through some SHIT with the opening force of 2024. Anyways, enjoy the reading and I pray that you find what you're looking for and what you need with me in my space today.

-

I.

"we've been watching you juggle both the physical and the spiritual within your hands for the past couple weeks, you may feel as though your worlds are colliding your the sky and the ocean has folded over with you in the center. There comes a time in one's life when the elements that make up their world must come into alignment and fuse with one another. You were told to learn what it meant to be a balanced individual, and so as you completed and closed off karmic lessons and overcame blockages you became closer and closer to equilibrium and these moments now are crucial as what you had needed all long is on its way to be delivered to you. You've been learning what it means to manage your time, manage your energy, and spread yourself where needed to obtain the results you desire. You have one foot in the spiritual realm and one foot in the physical world. Your development as of now is so incredibly important and we're supporting you in your journey forward.

Things may appear to be slow, backed up, or difficult at this time but movement is coming in quickly and to be expected soon. You've planted your seeds to receive and as you deserve, you shall. within the next two weeks for some of you and even a couple of days for a select few of you, things will begin to move forward or pick up momentum. Set your intentions straight and make sure that they are unwavering. there is success on the horizon, whatever is difficult or isn't working out for you that will change. You've grown so much, and your only job at this time is to nurture yourself and your manifestations, show yourself grace, ask for healing, ask for closure, and ask for the necessary tools to care for yourself as one should. And become clear and aligned with whatever you are manifesting, and put yourself in the position to receive by doing the work on your end and meeting us in the middle with your will and your gratitude. If there's a will there's a way even if you don't have everything in the world to offer in exchange. Come to terms with your power and the part you play in your world.

A select few of you are royalty within the spiritual realm you are kin of spirits who are highly respected and praised in the beyond and that is why the pile you chose depicts the divinity of a matriarch holding her child. Look for gold jewelry and gold trinkets and items if you choose to go out shopping or collecting. You feel called to build something or may have an idea, honor your ideas, and put actions behind what you desire to reap. Those of you who know that you are divinely protected are being heavily watched over and shielded, there could potentially be gossip by those of whom you've left behind or parted from but their tongues will be stilled when they speak of you they summon your spiritual court ( your ancestors, your spirit guides, guardian angels and all deities who call out to you and respect you.) their karma is sharp. Pay no mind to any negative energy sent to you by others. They talk only because they want to be paid great attention to but the audience lies in front of you and the universe's love and support is more than evident on your side.

You are about to succeed heavily, many things will be given to you, prosperity and congratulations are in order, the people will see. you are in a position to receive well in your finances, so well you will be able to give to others or keep your abundance in full cycle forward and back to you. We once told you that you would be compensated greatly for your hardship and the spiritual council has spoken and reached a solid verdict on your reward and the size and volume of the gifts you're about to receive. Do nothing but nurture thyself and expand from this point forward. be easy with secureness in your good fortune, do not let your fear or your anxiety eclipse you there is no purpose for any of it."

-

II.

"You asked to be free of the things that threaten to hold you hostage and one of the biggest of those things happens to be you. It's time for change and it's time for growth. As you step into the new year you have no choice but to be reset now after years and months and weeks of being broken. You need to be able to heal properly. It's time to come clean and be honest. There are many things within your life that have made lasting impressions on who you chose to be or what you chose to do for your survival even at the expense of others, even those you held dear to you. The process of living an honest life is not an easy one. It is easier to be deceptive, to use your pain as a weapon, or to do what you need to do to survive even if it means stepping on others in the process or not meeting the needs of those you've awoken to you. It is hard work to be in alignment, it is hard work to always take accountability, it is hard work to look at your shadow and truly acknowledge it, you know more than anyone."

interception: I'm getting the energy of the film "warrior" with tom hardy in where he plays a character named tommy who ends up having to fight his brother for a large reward in a wrestling championship. He was a marine in the military and has childhood trauma that shapes the way he presents himself to others and navigates in his interpersonal relationships and of course what his goals and purpose are in the film, I'm not going to spoil it for you but if this is your pile, I recommend you watch it. it's on Netflix. it also really does a good job of highlighting an aspect of ourselves that we carry in our spirits to marry ourselves to our trauma or particular factors of it to hide from troubling or conflicting emotions or circumstances. things that are "inherently" bad or negative in theory but can look "desirable" or "acceptable" to us because our motivation for accepting it happens to be a heavily skewed one.

" It's time you finally free yourself from your karma, from your vices, from your shadow, and from aspects of yourself or your life that threaten to keep you stuck or stagnant. You can't take with you all of these things into the new year, into the new world, into your new life. The devil is in the details and he has done nothing but hold onto your ankle this entire time. It is your responsibility to make the changes that you've been asking for or craving. You may fear loss or the reality of the damage you've caused, the opportunities you've put yourself in the position to lose. You will sit with yourself, you will look at yourself in the mirror or you will suffer and continue to do so under the hand of your own decisions. What you are owed in compensation for a hard life cannot be received if you cannot put yourself in the position to receive them. There's a need in life for personal given grace as well as accountability for the part we play in events and circumstances that take place in our lives, take time to self reflect, forgive yourself, show yourself grace and in turn find the courage to communicate with those you've wrong and/or begin your journey forwards.

In our lives, the consequence we bare the burden of however heavy the weight is never the full and eternal end there is always something after. You've proven yourself to be resilient, to be a force. Use your strengths and allow them to will you forward into the next chapter of your life. Someone significant in your past could've heavily admired you or seen in you things you could not see in yourself as they were able to sense higher beings in others however troubled their karma was. The love they had for you is the love you are about to receive from yourself. The things they saw in you that you could not see you are preparing to embody in full. Ace of pentacles upright for you here signifying abundance coming to you when you are able to open yourself up to receive it all. remain committed to your cause."

-

III.

"You're seeking out personal closure or looking for solutions to an issue that you don't have on end. Don't make the mistake of running from completion or leaving doors ajar because it is difficult to close them shut you know what you need to do. You need to make the proper investments for your life, you need to work for your improvement or to receive the life you have felt you were entitled to all along but the mistake you've made along the way all this time is attempting to take short cuts and be strategic, deceptive or ingenuine in your method to try and deceive. You are used to putting on a mask or trying on costumes to appeal what others desire from you so you can receive the result you prefer from them, their approval, their support, their validation. Your biggest enemy is the closet full of masks you've accumulated they work against you, they push people away, they scare people of value, and they mislead as you've asked them to. Your life and it's events however unfortunate or difficult have existed to serve you a purpose and put you on your righteous path forward in alignment with your highest self and the life they live but instead you've sharpened it and allowed it to be used as a weapon against others and against yourself.

put your strengths and your adaptability where it's needed and not into being a sheep in wolves clothing or traveling through the night in such a way in which you won't be seen. Abundance will come for you and doors will open up for you where you set your intention and where you are unwaveringly honest and true. Reflect on your choices, your habits, and your behaviors in order to decide what needs to be changed and what needs to be improved and do it honestly this time and set the intention to change it not make another mask of it and store it away for another time. It is not your place to control the way everyone looks at you and how you are perceived or if they are willing to give to you or not. You control or manipulate what does not belong to you from places of fear you store deep within you and it is time to heal and ready yourself to move forward and leave a karmic version of yourself behind. Pack up the things you need to bring with you and be rid of the rest. Do not be resistant to change you must move."

[myjsng]

you comfort a tired jisung after his comeback

idol!jisung x gn!reader

genre: smut(ish)/idol au

wc: 669

dni: you're a minor

cw: shower sex, non-penetrative sex, masturbation (m), nipple play (m), if you know more lmk

You walk into the entryway just as the boys put on their shoes to go out, everyone is very much glammed up for the club you decided to go to once they got done with most schedules, and the comeback was over.

Greeting them and some of their partners with quick smiles and hugs makes you realize the absence of the most important person in the group, your boyfriend.

“Jisungie just decided not to come along,” Jaemin told you as you looked out into their house, looking for said boy.

“He was actually getting ready, but I guess fatigue caught up so he told us he was going to shower and get some sleep” Patting your back, Renjun informed you as you unlocked your phone and noticed an unread text from Jisung, saying the exact same and telling you to go out and celebrate with your friend group.

“It’s fine, you guys can go ahead though, I’ll stay to relax with him” You smiled at them, and as Haechan insisted that you come along since you spent time getting ready, you waved him out “Don’t worry about it, I really don’t mind it. Plus, someone has to make sure he eats and everything else”

Smiling teasingly, Jeno says as he leads the group out of the door “Well, have fun with your alone time”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you smirk and enter the house as the last of them leaves and closes the door. Hearing the water from his shower, you leave your stuff on his desk before knocking on the bathroom door.

“Jisungie? Can I come in?” You ask softly and hear him mumbling a yes before opening the door. You’re met with his slumped back and his head leaning on the wall, under the shower head. Taking off your jewelry and putting it on the counter, you slowly strip off your clothes and walk into the shower with him.

“You should have gone with them” Jisung mumbles with his eyes still closed as he feels you walk up behind him and embrace him in a back hug.

“I didn’t feel like going out either, the fact you stayed back just gave me an excuse to ditch them too” Your explanation makes him let out a chuckled breath and you smile, kissing the middle of his back,

Sighing, Jising lets his body relax even further “I’m just so fucking tired”

“I know. You worked really hard” You allow your hands to roam on his front, from tracing his abdomen to caressing his pecks, then softly bringing them back down to his V line where you trace the skin with the tips of your nails “I’m so proud of you”

He exhales once your hands met his hardening dick, and relaxes even more as one of them trails up to play with his nipples. Your movements are slow, just feeling him up, and circling his head, while you trail some kisses on his shoulders and feel all the tension leaving his body.

You feel his tight abdomen as you change the placement of your hands, and feel around his body with the one that’s not working on his member. Tracing your nails on his skin, you grind into his backside to provide yourself with at least a minimal amount of friction, and thanks to the water and his pre cum, you work over his dick smoothly.

His long groans and deep sighs, tell you that Jisung is fully engaged in the moment, so you’re not surprised when a few moments later he shudders and groans as he cums on your hands and melts in your arms. Turning around, he wraps himself around your body and gives you a slow kiss, tongue fully connected with yours before he pulls apart, now speaking more clearly “I love you so much”

Kissing his check, you brush his hair back “Let’s get done with this shower so we can cuddle”

[zablife]

The Gold Chain

A/N: 🔞 This is simply porn with no plot based on the delectable gold chain Cillian has worn recently. I've never written for Cillian Murphy before, but I was inspired by the thirst of a few beloved mutuals. I hope you enjoy this bit of wish fulfillment girls! 😉

“You’re later than I expected,” you noted, looking up at your handsome fiance.

“I’m sorry. The Q&A ran long,” he explained, shedding his jacket by the door. You left the warmth of the kitchen to embrace him, taking in the new clothes he wore and one added item. Around his neck, you noticed a glint of gold peeking from under his shirt. It lay against his chest hair delicately, daring you to touch it.

Tracing your fingers over it lightly you asked, “What’s this?” , toying with the chain around his neck.

“I haven’t a clue, something the stylist chose,” he admitted. Frowning down at the jewelry he asked, “Should I take it off?”

“No!” you answered a bit too quickly. “L-leave it…” you quietly sputtered. 

Cillian looked up at you in surprise, a chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ll leave it,” he conceded.

You laced your arms around his neck, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you nodded your head in agreement.

“Should I take that to mean you like it?’ he asked teasingly.

You bit your lower lip, nodding again as words failed you. Cillian tapped your leg, indicating for you to jump and you hopped into his arms with a giggle.

Seeing the lustful look in your eye, he wasted no time steering you toward the bedroom and removing your pajamas. You took hold of his belt buckle, pulling him toward you as you unlaced it from his trousers quickly. In no time, you had his pants off and jerked your chin toward his upper half. He shucked off his shirt, throwing it at the lamp as you pulled him down on top of you.

“Missed you,” you whimpered against his full lips. 

“I’m here,” he comforted you, laying his body over yours protectively. The heat from his chest radiated over you pleasantly as you buried your face in his neck, smelling his cologne. The coolness of the chain grazed your throat and you lost all control.

“Need you to fuck me,” you mumbled caught in the haze of desire. And he complied instantly, using his knee to kick your legs apart. He pulled away from your tantalizing kisses momentarily to stare at your glistening wetness. A sigh of contentment issued from his lips as he stroked himself to hardness.

Without another word, he sheathed himself inside you, a low groan emitting from his throat in primal desire. “Please,” you begged, feeling him move languidly within your warm walls. Seeing your desperation, Cillian drove his hips into you, balls slapping your cunt with the force of his strokes. He needed this release as badly as you and was more than willing to give you the rough fuck you desired.

But not before he devoured your neck and mouth in sloppy kisses, hungrily seeking your tongue with his. The sounds of your lovemaking echoed through the room as you felt your release grow closer. The coil in your belly pulled tight as you watched the gold chain at his neck dance above you. It glimmered in the low light, winking at you with each powerful thrust. 

Hovering above your open mouth, it dropped onto your waiting tongue and you sucked on it gently as he slowed his movements. Hands lacing through your hair, then skimming your body with his rough palms, he asked in a deep voice, "Feeling good, baby?"

“Mmm-hmmm…I'm gonna...,” you began, but he knew what you would say, a bold smirk painting his handsome features.

“Cum for me, Y/n,” he urged you softly, pinching your erect nipples as the cord deep within you snapped. 

You moaned against his shoulder before biting down harshly to quell the shaking of your limbs, an orgasm ripping through you. Cillian followed soon after, hips pistoning into you until he faltered with a low groan. Filling you to the brim with his warm release, your eyes rolled back in your head, heels locked together behind his back. 

He chuckled as he fell toward the bed, peppering your face with gentle kisses. “You liked the jewelry?” he teased.

“That woman deserves a raise,” you noted breathlessly. And Cillian smiled, remembering the sheer black shirt he’d tried on earlier in the day. He didn't dare confide that now though, eager to see what your reaction would be to the next garment he surprised you with.